


Unspoken

by SapphireBlueJiyuu



Series: The Domestication of Wolves (in times of peace) [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bran is a ninja wizard, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBlueJiyuu/pseuds/SapphireBlueJiyuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visit to the Godswoods and a visit from an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> I think that both Meera and Bran are a tiny bit OOC but I did the best I could.

The Godswoods of Winterfell brings him the most comfort. It was lightly snowing outside that day but he could not help but ask Hodor to come and bring him to the woods because last night he had dreamt of his father. The trek into the mystical woods were very much like returning to a time before he lost his parents. If he was still enough, Bran was sure that he could hear his father's voice in the wind, weaving through the leaves of the weirwood trees. Summer was trailing beside them, happy to be out and about rather than being cooped up in the castle that particular afternoon.

Bran asked to be set down atop the large smooth rock that his father once used to polish Ice on and, once he was satisfied, Bran pulled out two winter roses that he had tucked away safely under his thick fur coat. Placing it atop the growing pile of blue blossoms that he had placed there each time he had come to the heart tree, Bran sighed contently, taking comfort in the silence that filled the woods in his presence. He closed his eyes, simply taking in the tranquil of the woods and the wind for what seemed like mere moments but before he knew it, he felt her presence enter the woods, her footsteps as light as a deer's hooves upon the dampen soil. She was wearing a heavy cloak and her riding boots, he noticed, in the way the weight of the cloak weighed down her foot falls and the soft thumps from the heel of her boots touched stray branches. It was her newest pair that she decided to wear that day. He had gifted her with it on her last name day, remembering her secret smile she gave him when she opened the parcel. He could also hear that she was carrying her spear with her, the metal head rattled ever so slightly, indicating it had possibly loosen from it's wooden handle in the last skirmish that she was in with a wildling that had attempted to attack Bran and herself a few days prior. He made a mental note to ask Gendry to reset it once they were back at the castle. 

Meera appeared before him, but he made no indication to open his eyes, and simply feigned slumber. Bran heard the her breathless giggle (her shoulders would be slightly shaking in mirth, he was sure) before leaning forward. He felt the warmth of her breath flare across his cheeks before her soft lips settled on his. Blissfully aware of every movement around him, Bran's senses were overwrought with pleasure as he reached up his gloved hand to the back of her neck, holding her to him. Meera gasped against his lips before sighing into his kiss. She wound her arms around his neck, before pulling back, tracing her tongue lightly along his bottom lip. “Jojen has arrived from Greywater Watch, my prince.”

Bran merely nodded indicating he knew. 

“The king and queen has summoned you to the Great Hall. Apparently, they're at a lost as to how to handle my dear brother and hope that you will be there to – what were Myrcella's words exactly? Ah!– 'translate his enigmatic speech'.” Meera said, her amusement evident in her eyes. 

Bran laughed at that and nodded before turning to call Hodor. 

“No need, my prince. I shall have the honor of caring you back.” Meera said as she grinned at him. Bran hesitated at first before smiling warmly at her.

The trek back to the castle was a quiet one but one that was awash with a comfortable silence filled with trust, care, and love that would not be marred with the temporal and vestigial nature of human speech. Their silence addressed matters louder than their spoken words ever could.


End file.
